Thursday, September 27, 2012

The Session

Yesterday I embarked on my first "therapy" session. Although, I would not really call it a session. Essentially, it was more of an assessment. It consisted of them making sure I was not going to kill myself, or someone else. Since I am not suicidal, nor violent, it was a gameplan of coming up with ways to help me out. I'll admit, it was not really what I expected it to be.

Anytime I have a new experience, I approach it with a great deal of trepidation. I have always had a fear of the unknown. How to act in a certain station, the right things to say. Some people can always take a new situation, and make the best of it. This is not an ability that I possess.

The night before, I thought about how it would go down. I thought of that scene in "There's Something About Mary" where Ben Stiller is sitting laying on the couch, while the therapist skips out for lunch. Poor, clueless, big-eared Stiller spills his guts about the love he lost, while the smaller, more professional set of ears does not give two shits.  I thought that something similar would transpire, and that I would just be led down a road full of embarrassment. This was not the case.

The therapist wanted to gauge a background on me. I told her about the issues I was experiencing, saying that they really started in childhood, and have followed me through my evolution into adulthood. I told her that my three-year romantic relationship ending was the biggest mindfuck of my life,(I cleaned it up a little) yet, it was also the kick in the ass I needed to better myself.

I told her that I rarely drink, and I have never done any kind of illegal drugs, so substance abuse is not the issue. I am just a little nuts, and neurotic. Hell, one time I had take a shit so bad while driving, that I pulled up to a Jack in the Box, and ordered food so the employees wouldn't look at me weird for dropping a deuce in their bathroom. For some reason, I found that to be strange.

Also, the room was not what I expected. There was no couch, just office chairs. Instead of writing notes down, the therapist just typed notes out in a computer. She was pretty young too -- she could not have been much older than 30. She seemed impressed by my outlook, which I suppose is positive.

Truthfully, I cannot figure out if I am just bullshitting myself. I have always been somewhat of a pessimist, but I have really tried to change things about myself. It started with losing weight, it has continued with medication, therapy, and a new way of thinking. Things will improve, and I will emerge stronger than I ever have before.

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